


Who We Love

by dontbitethesun



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-30
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbitethesun/pseuds/dontbitethesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean forgives Cas despite himself, because that's what you do with family. It just takes him a while to accept that's what Cas is to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who We Love

**Author's Note:**

> AU after 7.01.

_In this life we love who we love. There were some stories in which facts were very nearly irrelevant._ \- Ann Patchett, _State of Wonder_

  


When the leviathans return to purgatory, they take a piece of Cas with them.

For two agonizing minutes, Cas lays on the floor where he collapsed. He's cold to the touch and he isn't breathing, his face still ravaged and bloody from their presence. Then, when Dean is about to turn away, to give him up for dead no matter how much his heart or his soul may protest, Cas gasps and sits up. He looks down at himself, glances over his still injured hands before searching out Dean's eyes.

“They took my grace,” he says, no inflection whatsoever in his voice.

Dean takes him home and cleans him up, rubs peroxide over every wound - and there are several, they mottle his entire body - tapes gauze bandages over the worst of them, the ones that are still sluggishly oozing blood.

When he's done, he taps Cas on the knee and says, “You should get some sleep,” before standing and turning towards the door.

Cas' softly murmured, “Dean,” halts him in the doorway.

“Yeah, Cas,” he answers. He doesn't turn around, just inclines his head and turns it back enough to catch a glimpse of Cas sitting on the bed in Bobby's spare room, hunched in on himself, his hands folded in his lap. He looks defeated. Dean’s pretty sure he knows what Cas is going to say and he doesn't think he's ready to hear it yet, if only because he has no idea how to respond.

“I wanted to say… I’m sorry,” Cas says, “and if there's anything I can… I'll do anything to make this up to you. To… make amends.”

Dean's eyes flutter shut and his hand comes up to grip the doorframe. Before, when they were waiting for the door to purgatory to open, the words had flowed easily enough, fueled not so much by his anger but by his disappointment. Now though, after seeing Cas lay there broken and still, thinking he was dead, that Dean had lost him… he's at a loss for what to do. He thinks somewhere in those two minutes where Cas had lain there not breathing Dean had forgiven him despite himself, and he doesn't quite know what to do about that, what to say. He doesn't think he should have done it, giving away his forgiveness so easily, but he can't for the life of him summon back the anger, the disappointment. It's simply gone without a trace.

“You don't have to say anything now,” Cas continues when the silence stretches on uncomfortably. “Just think about it.”

“Okay,” Dean answers softly. He plans to leave things like this, but his heart clenches painfully in his chest when he tries to take a step away down the hall. It's inconvenient, these feelings that he has for Cas, especially now when Cas wants his forgiveness so desperately and Dean can't think of a way to tell him he already has it.

So, instead, he says the one thing he knows how to, the only words that don't get stuck in his throat. “Cas,” he says, voice rough as he turns back, “I’m glad you're not dead.”

Cas' face lightens a little at those words and it’s enough so the constriction of Dean's chest loosens and he's able to walk away.

*

Sam haunts Bobby's library, Cas spends all of on the couch watching soap operas, and Dean sequesters himself in the garage. He spends a little time putting the finishing touches on his baby, but mostly he’s just hiding away from the brother and the angel who he doesn't know how to deal with or how to fix.

Bobby puts up with this for a week before deciding to put a stop to it. “Here,” he says, jamming a sheaf of papers into Dean's hand before he can sneak back out to the garage after catching an early breakfast by himself, “I found you boys a hunt.”

“A hunt?” Dean repeats.

“Yeah, you three have spent more than enough time moping about. All the angst around here is giving me a headache, and things don't seem to be getting any better with you all sitting around with your thumbs up your asses. Getting back in the saddle will do you a world of good. Now, I'm saying this because I want to help you, but take your brother and that angel and hit goddamn the road. Tonight.”

“Bobby, are you sure Sam's up for this? I mean, his wall's still broken - he's still seeing things that aren't there.”

“And you think holing up here, hiding out in the library and not talking to anyone is doing him any good?”

“Well, maybe not,” Dean hedges.

“Then here's a thought: why don't you go ask him, see what he thinks you boys ought to do?”

Dean's still unsure about all this, but he takes the papers and heads off to Bobby's library. He hesitates outside of door when he hears voices. For a moment, he thinks it's just Sam talking to himself again, but then he hears Cas reply. He knows he should either walk away or make his presence known, but he wants to know what Sam and Cas could possibly be talking about after seven days of silence, so he inches forward enough to hear the words without being seen.

“I wanted to apologize,” Cas is saying, “for tearing down the wall in your head. If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

“It's okay, Cas. Really,” Sam answers. “I think it's better this way- well, other than the hallucinations. But honestly, there were three pieces of myself running around inside my head, and that's just not healthy. This is the first time I’ve felt at home in my own skin for a long time.”

“I still feel responsible,” Cas says.

“Don't, okay. I can take care of myself. You should just concentrate on making things right between you and Dean. I know he's been pissed at you lately, and you haven't been much better, what with the soap opera marathon. I’ve been going out of my mind with boredom, but I haven't wanted to risk suggesting a case to him, you know?”

Outside the door, Dean snorts softly to himself. Guess Bobby really did know what he was talking about when he suggested the case. He backs away and goes back out to the garage for a bit. He's still hesitant to leave for reasons that have nothing to do with his worry about Sam’s well-being and everything to do with his discomfort around Cas.

*

For all his words about getting them out of his hair, Bobby sees them off when they leave the following morning. He claps Sam and Dean heartily on the back, tells them, “Now you boys take care of yourselves, you hear, and don't hesitate to call if you need anything.” He checks on Cas' steadily healing wounds and gives him a pat on the shoulder before Cas climbs in backseat.

The hunt that Bobby found for them is a quick salt and burn that they take care of quickly before moving on to the next one. They work efficiently together - Sam and Dean do all the interviews while Cas, still healing, camps out either at the library or in their various motel rooms doing research. Sam shows him how to use his laptop and the internet and Cas picks it up fast. Dean's more than happy to let Cas do the heavy lifting when it comes to research - and he's equally happy that Cas isn’t coming along for the interviews.

Sam’s been quiet - keeping mostly to himself. He spends most of his free time out running or biking. Dean worries this is a throwback from his time as Robo-Sam, but the excessive exercising seems to be the only carry over so he doesn't mention it. This does, however, have the additional effect of leaving Dean and Cas alone together for long periods of time. Dean still isn’t sure how to act around Cas - he ends up coming across mostly as terse, if not outright hostile. Cas does his best to tip-toe around him, spends the time where it's just the two of them using Sam’s computer to do who knows what.

Things continue on in this fashion for nearly a month before Sam finally says something. He and Dean have just been to the morgue for an interview on their latest case. Cas is, of course, back at the motel room doing research. The two of them are still in their suits after posing as FBI agents when they stop for lunch at a local diner.

Sam waits until after their food has arrived and Dean has just taken a big, juicy bite of his cheeseburger before bringing it up.

“So,” he asks conversationally, “when are you going to stop punishing him”?

Dean so does not want to have this conversation right now. All he wants to do is sit here and eat his burger in peace, is that too much to ask? “What are you talking about? I’m not punishing anybody,” Dean replies.

Sam gives him a look. “Don't pretend you don’t know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“Okay, I know. I just don't care.”

“I just think this whole thing has gone on long enough. He apologized to you, didn't he?”

“Just because he apologized doesn't mean I’m okay with what he did.”

“You always forgive me,” Sam observes, “no matter what I do.”

“That's different,” Dean says.

“How is it different?”

“You're family,” Dean says, like it’s obvious.

“And Cas isn't?”

Cas is so many things to Dean that family is probably mixed in there somewhere, but it's the other things that worry him about too easy a forgiveness. Those are things that make his heart ache and his chest tight, the things that make him expect more from Cas than he probably should.

Then again, maybe it's not about forgiveness at all. Maybe, the things he feels for Cas are just too big and he's scared.

“So are you going to lighten up around him now?” Sam asks.

“We'll see,” Dean answers.

Just because he knows what's really going on doesn't make it any easier to do something about it.

*

When they get back to the room, Cas is sitting at the table, staring intently at Sam’s laptop. The room is mostly dark, the only light streaming in weakly from the bathroom.

“You can't do that shit anymore,” Dean says, flicking on the lamp closest to the table. “You gotta turn on a light or you'll fuck up your eyes.”

“Oh, sorry,” Cas says distractedly, his eyes never leaving the screen.

Dean rolls his eyes and plops a styrofoam take-home carrier down next to Cas' elbow. “Take a break,” he says. “We brought you a burger. No mayo, extra pickles, right?”

At that, Cas looks up curiously at him and Dean realizes this is the first time they’ve done more than snipe at each other in days. Feeling somewhat ashamed of himself, Dean promises himself he'll do better.

*

A few days later, Sam takes off for another run despite the fact it's been misting and wet all day.

“You think he's training for a triathlon or something?” Dean asks, peering out the window as Sam jogs off at a brisk pace in the light drizzle.

“I… do not know,” Cas answers. He pauses and studies Dean quizzically for a moment, like he's not sure what to make of Dean's sudden change of heart regarding him, before adding, “I have something for you.”

“You do?” Dean asks, surprised. Cas digs through his duffle bag for a moment before coming around the table to stand beside him.

“Here,” Cas says, handing him a slim journal. “I’ve been looking into how to restore the wall in Sam’s head and this is what I’ve found so far. I’m not completely there yet, and there were a few texts I don't have access to at the moment, but I’m sure I can complete my research in a relatively timely manner.”

Dean flips through the journal and finds pages and pages filled with Cas' neat, tidy script. “Jesus, Cas, I can't believe you did this,” Dean says, somewhat awed. “Is this what you’ve been doing on Sam’s computer for so long?”

“Yes,” Cas answers. “I told you I was going to make amends. This is only a start, and I know it doesn't actually make up for tearing it down, but I hope it's a step in the right direction.”

Dean just stares at him before telling him the thing he hadn't been able to before, the words that he hadn't even been able to begin to be able to formulate. Now, it’s like they just slip out before he even gives them any conscious thought. “Cas, there was never anything you had to do. You were already forgiven from the start,” he says, and hauls Cas into a kiss. It's perhaps a bit more forceful than it should be, but Cas kisses back, rather enthusiastically in fact.

When Dean pulls away, Cas' hand stays cupped around his cheek. Cas stares into his eyes, confusion causing a line to form between his eyebrows. “Then why…?” he asks.

Dean pulls him close and holds him there so he doesn't have to see Cas' face when he says this. “I forgave you the minute those souls returned to purgatory. When I thought you had died…” he trails off, nuzzling his cheek against Cas' jaw, relishing the touch of warm skin against his own. “Later, I thought… you hadn't earned it. But you never had to Cas.”

He pauses, takes a deep breath, inhaling Cas' scent as he does so. Cas smells clean, like soap and fresh laundry, with just a hint of something woody underneath. “Okay, no. that's not exactly it. I mean that you did earn it, even if I couldn't see it at first. You came to us and you did the right thing, even if did you made mistakes along the way. I can't expect you to be perfect. I shouldn't ask things of you that I don't expect from myself, things I’ve never expected of Sam. Because you… you're just as important to me as he is. I might get mad at you if you do something stupid, but I’ll always be there for you afterwards. Always.”

Cas' hands clench in the fabric of Dean's shirt. He exhales heavily, his breath warming Dean's neck. “I was just trying to…” he begins, trying to explain, but his voice breaks before he can continue.

Dean's hand rubs comforting circles along Cas' shoulders. “I know. I know exactly what you were trying to do.”

And he does too. Cas was just trying to save the world again with limited options, while trying to give Dean the freedom he'd asked for. Then – with the souls and the god fiasco – he was just trying to make that same world he'd saved - fucking twice - a better place, the kind of place his father had wanted it to be, the kind of world he might come back to. Dean gets that. He'd been willing to make some heavy sacrifices himself to save the world the first time around. But, maybe most importantly of all, Cas had brought his brother back. That last fact, more than anything, is what makes Dean finally give in to the feelings he’s been trying to ignore for months. “I love you, you know,” he says.

Cas pulls back enough to staring wonderingly into Dean’s eyes. “You… what?”

Dean smiles at him for the first time in a long time. “Yeah, I do.” He leans in to press fleeting kisses across Cas’ cheekbones. “You love me too,” he says.

Cas laughs, low and amused. “You’re not wrong.” He tilts his head up to catch Dean’s mouth in a deep, tongue-tangling kiss.

Dean’s hands dip under Cas’ shirt – a gray tee-shirt rather than the white button down he’d worn for so long. His old clothes had been ruined after what had happened to his body after the souls from purgatory overwhelmed his vessel. Cas tentatively brings his hands up to rest on Dean’s chest, and Dean remembers that Cas has never done this before.

“Do you want…” he whispers against Cas’ lips, nudging him towards the bed.

“Yes,” Cas answers, walking backwards and pulling Dean along with him. “Yes, I want.”

Dean smiles, and he brings up a hand to stroke though Cas’ hair. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises fondly.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Cas says, voice cocky and sure, but the way his hands tremble as they undo the buttons on Dean’s shirt belie his show of confidence.

Dean lifts Cas’ shirt over his head and tosses it behind him on the floor, his hands tracing the planes of Cas’ chest, passing gently over the red scars that remain from wounds the souls of purgatory left on his body. He presses careful kisses to the marks on his sternum, the one just below his right nipple, another that moves down from his ribcage to his abdomen.

Cas is breathing heavily, his hands resting awkwardly on Dean’s shoulders. “Are you going to get on with it?” he challenges, and Dean grins up at him, his own fingers undoing the zipper on Dean’s pants. He pulls down Cas’ boxers and pants at the same time, helps Cas step carefully out of them before tipping him back to fall on the bed. Dean shrugs out of his shirt that Cas had so helpfully unbuttoned for him and kicks off his own pants before crawling on top of him to catch his lips in a long, teasing kiss.

“The first thing I’m going to teach you,” Dean says, lightly biting at Cas’ neck, “is how to take your time.”

“Fuck that,” Cas says, pressing insistently at Dean’s head, rubbing the hard length of his erection against Dean’s thigh, lest Dean forget it was there.

“You’re kind of bossy,” Dean says, chuckling softly and giving Cas’ neck one last bite, a little harder this time, before moving down to do as he’s told. “I like that.”

Cas groans and reaches down to bury his fingers in Dean’s hair as Dean swallows him down. Dean hums, low in his throat, around Cas’ cock, twists his tongue experimentally against it. Cas’ hips jerk up unexpectedly and Dean has to wrap his hands around his hips to hold him down so Cas doesn’t accidentally choke him.

It doesn’t take long for Cas to come with Dean’s name on his lips and Dean keeps his lips wrapped firmly around his cock as Cas’ cum floods his mouth, swallows it all down when he’s done. Dean kisses his way back up Cas’ body, captures his mouth in a kiss and lets him lick the taste of himself out of Dean’s mouth.

Cas’ hands roam leisurely over Dean’s back as Dean rocks against him, his own cock sliding along the join between Cas’ pelvis and hip. A few quick jerks and he comes almost embarrassingly fast, if it wasn’t for the way Cas’ tongue curls against his, or the blowjob that had gotten him all hot and bothered, waiting for that one last push over into orgasm.

Dean collapses heavily on top of Cas’ chest. Cas lets him lay there without comment, traces his hand lazily along Dean’s arm and joins their hands together, tangling their fingers together. Dean closes his eyes, nuzzles his nose against Cas’ collarbone.

What could be minutes or hours later, when Dean’s breathing is finally back under control and he’s starting to think about round too, and raises his head to look at Cas with a teasing grin. “That was pretty good,” he says, “for a virgin.”

Cas grins right back and slaps Dean on the ass with his free hand, says, “I’ll show you virgin.”


End file.
